Through Time
by percychased
Summary: There's two people - one girl, one boy - and one doesn't quite know what she's waiting for, and the other one drops his hero and his dreams like a raindrop. And at the end, they're both sitting on the stone - maybe they'll be another story carved into the surface. LLP/OC.


For as long as Lily could remember, there had always been a well in the backyard of their quaint cottage in Godric's Hollow.

It was old, but the stones told stories only time could tell; intricately woven tales of falling in love, falling out of love, and simple tragedies. There had always been an _AD + GG_ carved into one of the top ones, and Lily would always amuse herself tracing the letters with a stick and thinking up who on Earth that could be.

There was a continuous crack running through three of the top stones, and sometimes if she squinted hard enough, Lily could see purple mist wafting through the crack, and she wondered what kind of magic could have such a lasting impact, because that crack had to be very, very old.

She'd like to sit on the side of the well, barefooted and hair undone, swinging her feet and looking down into the murky depths below. Sometimes her brother Albus, a quiet, gentle boy, would join her, and they'd sit there for hours, neither over the age of eight, just lost in their own thoughts.

James never understood her - or Albus, for that matter. He was loud, brash, and when he grew up, slightly crude. Although well-meaning, he was a fast-paced boy, and never had the quiet intensity that both Lily and Albus had.

Lorcan and Lysander had found it highly fascinating, too. Sitting on those stones, with their feet dangling above the dirty water, they'd tell enthused stories about what kind of completely innocent animal is actually poisonous (and don't worry, mummy's brewing the antidote at home). Will Wood, the same age as Lily, never understood her fascination. Her mother and Will's mother - Katie - had grown to be close friends, which meant that whether she liked it or not, Will would come over and visit while the grown ups would have tea.

"It's just boring old water!" He'd exclaim, leaning on the kid's version of the Cleansweep. "Quidditch is real fun! Once we're in Hogwarts, you can play Quidditch with me instead of looking into dirty wells!" Lily frowned at him.

And he'd circle around the Potter's backyard, a complete miniature replica of his father down to the wide shoulders and the hazel eyes.

It bothered Lily, but she couldn't understand why - it didn't bother her that her eldest brother, a creature who chose to avoid anything to do with quiet and cleanliness and order didn't like it, but why did it bother her that Will, who could be personality twins with James, thought her looking at the well to be boring?

He'd thought it even more boring the summer after their first year at Hogwarts. Albus was thirteen, and often stayed inside, owling his friends and reading. Godric knows where he inherited it from - neither of his parents, unlike their Aunt Hermione, were major bookworms.

It was just Lily, nearly twelve, sitting on the cracked stones and watching the water. Waiting. Sometimes there would be leaves floating on the surface, and she'd admire every detail, every line and every blended color.

Will and James would race around the backyard, flying so close to her she could feel the wind from their brooms on the back of her neck.

"Lily! C'mon, try a broom! That's_ bo-oring_!" Will laughed. Lily would shake her head.

The summer after, mere days away from turning thirteen, she had been counted the creases in a crumpled leaf on the surface of the water when her mother, frantic and pale, had called James, Will, and herself into the house.

It was a day that Lily wouldn't forget for the rest of her days.

"An accident happened," her mother explained, a stony look in her eyes. Like she was trying to be strong for the children in front of her.

Oliver Wood, the first-string Keeper for Puddlemere United, had been injured at a game. Injured in such a vital organ at a quick pace, and they didn't know...

Will had dropped his broomstick, causing an almost painful echo to reverberate around the room.

The next summer, her fourteenth birthday, to be exact, Will joined her at the well. This time, he didn't fly around her or tease her for being so _dull - it's only a well, for Merlin's sake!_

Instead, he dropped his feet down, kicking off his sandals.

"I can see why you like it, now," he said quietly. Lily thought of it as his 'new voice' - quiet and gentle, not unlike Albus. It was a large difference from how he spoke before - loud and crude, just like her sixteen year old brother. His 'new voice' had came into effect just after the accident.

Will Wood, a boy just like her brother, and Will Wood, a boy who had been through _just too much_, were quite different.

After the accident, he hadn't touched a broomstick. Overheard her mother mentioning he got shaky around them, couldn't stand them. It reminded him of a hero that he had lost - a hero in the form of a parental figure.

"He's growing up too fast, Ginny," she had heard that same day - a sad voice.

"It's kind of peaceful," Will said, dipping the tip of his long legs into the water, and she filed it away somewhere in that brain of hers that he talked not like a boy, but like someone who had lived and lost, "... in a good way. In a very good way, you know? I never understood it, before. It used to seem so utterly dull. But I see it now. There's nothing better, sometimes, than just letting yourself think. Never sitting and thinking shallowly leaves much to be desired, I think."

Lily had leaned back. "I feel like I'm waiting for something here. Something's gonna happen. But it never does, and I'm still staring down at the well, tracing the stories with the tip of my wand."

"The best stories are the biggest mysteries to us, I think, and we might always be waiting," Will said, casually.

* * *

_a/n - I hope this was enjoyable. I had fun writing it, myself. For a competition. _


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